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Lyxander steps closer.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I force a small smile, keeping my gaze fixed on the shifting crowd within the pavilion. “Just taking it all in.” Before I no longer can.
Lyxander doesn’t respond right away, the words I leave unsaid seeming to fill the air between us. His gaze lingers on me, scorching the side of my face and making my chest constrict to the point of pain. I want to say something—anything—to break the silence. But I don’t trust my voice, not when my thoughts are a tangled mess of what-ifs and almosts.
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he says finally.
“I’m fine.”
It’s a lie, and I think he knows it.
He shifts closer, his wings rustling faintly. The heat of him brushes against my arm, and I hate how much I want to lean into it, into him.
But I can’t.
Because in a matter of hours, I’ll be banished. And he’ll still be here, in this place that feels like it was made for him.
I take a step, putting enough distance between us to breathe. “We should go. The others are waiting for us.”
I stride toward the pavilion, sensing Lyxander right behind me, and wind through the crowd until we find his kin. Kato cocks a questioning brow at us, while Rhaya’s gaze flits between me and Lyxander. I forge a smile, trying to ignore the tension curling in my chest.
Our group settles into the celebration, the atmosphere shifting as more Harpaurai gather in clusters, their laughter and conversation weaving through the crisp air. I catch glimpses of curious glances cast my way, their gazes lingering before they turn back to their companions.
I search the crowd for the queen, but she’s nowhere to be found. The absence of her cold, cutting gaze should be a relief, but instead it leaves me uneasy, as though she’s watching from somewhere unseen.
I try to focus instead on the pavilion itself. The stone beneath my feet, the aurora’s lights above. Tables of refreshments line one side, and the air carries the scent of spiced wine and something sweet I can’t quite place.
The conversations continue, but I find myself retreating further.
There are too many people, too much movement, too much light pressing against my skin. Without another thought, I slip through the crowd and to the front of the pavilion.
I lean against one of the pillars, my fingertips brushing along the chain at my waist as I stare out at the lake. Rectangular stones skirt the icy shoreline, too smooth, too deliberate to be natural. I trace their path, following the line of stones to a stone archway at the edge of the cliff.
Iphigenia’s Leap.
My fingers still against the chain as my attention lingers on the archway.
“Hiding, Princess?”
I turn as Cynna folds her arms and leans against the pillar beside me.
“Do I need to tell you how hypocritical that is, coming from you?” I say wryly.
“I’m well aware.” Cynna smirks, then fixes her gaze on the lake ahead. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I follow her line of sight, letting the stillness settle over me as the auroras ripple across the surface, their colors shifting and blending. “It’s like a dream. Honestly, it makes me wonder why anyone would ever want to leave.”
Cynna lets out a soft sigh, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not so much the desire to leave but the freedom to do so. That’s what our kin truly yearns for. The choice. The possibility.”
“But you and Silas—you’re allowed to?”
“ ‘Allowed’ might be a bit generous. It’s more like our mother pretends to be ignorant of our existence.”
“That sounds all too familiar.” A deep, simmering anger rises within me as her words conjure my father’s image, but I push the feeling aside. “When are you planning to leave again?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll be accompanying Silas and Xerxes to the Empyrieos Games, and I worry that the more time we spend there, the more Titaia is at risk of discovery.”
